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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036137">Come Along With Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexbos/pseuds/lexbos'>lexbos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Adventure Time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Slow Burn, Things will get dark but don't worry I'll put tags on those chapters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:21:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036137</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexbos/pseuds/lexbos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bonnibel Butler moves to the small town of Butterscotch Lake, determined to avoid everyone for the next two years of high school. Her plans of social isolation are quickly dashed, however, when she meets the mysterious Marceline Abadeer, a local delinquent that's as determined to avoid people as Bonnibel is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Princess Bubblegum/Marceline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Click</em>. Bonnibel pushed the door open easily, flooding her new home with light. <em> It's quaint</em>, she thought, <em> just enough space for my uncle and I</em>. She leaned the rolling suitcase she had with her against the wall and inspected the living room.</p><p>“Whaddya think? Good enough for the Butlers’?” her uncle said with a cheesy grin from behind her.</p><p>Her uncle was an incredibly tall and thin man. Much like Bonnibel’s, he had bright red hair, but his was peppered with grey. He kept it neatly combed back. Everything about him was neat and orderly on the surface.</p><p>“It’s great, Pepper,” she smiled thinly.</p><p>Pepper’s grin fell into a sad smile. He set down his suitcase and walked back to the van to finish unpacking their things. After a moment, Bonnibel follows.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>“<em> Phew</em>, who knew this tiny couch could be so heavy?” Pepper said, flopping on the couch dramatically. </p><p>“Pep, you said the same thing when we carried it <em> out</em>,” Bonnibel said with a laugh, sitting down beside him.</p><p>Before Pepper could reply his stomach rumbled, deafening the room.</p><p>“<em>Wouf </em>! Guess it’s time to eat,” he said with a wolfish grin, pulling out his phone. “What sounds good? Pizza? Chinese?”</p><p>Bonnibel thought for a moment, then did a quick google search. <em> Stupid data</em>, she thought as she watched it load. She bit her lip when the results finally appeared. “Wow, this place has almost nothing,” she said while scrolling through the dwindling results. <em> Of course</em>, she sighed, <em> this place is tiny compared to home. </em></p><p>“Wait. Here’s something,” She scooted closer to Pepper. “It’s a local place that delivers.”</p><p>Pepper took the phone, squinting at the results. “The Tree Trunk? Well, I suppose it doesn’t hurt to sample the <em> local cuisine</em>.”</p><p>After looking over the online menu for a minute, Pepper placed the order and began carrying boxes labelled <em> Pepper </em> upstairs. <em> Oh, right. I should start unpacking </em>, she remembered. Bonnibel grabbed one of her boxes and headed after her uncle. When she reached the top, she found a small hallway, with a door leading to the left, a door to the right, and a door at the end that looked to be the bathroom. She peeked into the left and saw her uncle, so she took the right room.</p><p>She found herself in a small room, much smaller than she was used to, but still plenty big enough for her and her possessions. She set the box down in the middle of the room and began removing its contents. </p><p><em> DING dong</em>. “Dear! Could you get that!” her uncle shouted from his room, it was muffled as though blocked by several layers of boxes. “I’ll be right behind you!” <em> thud. </em></p><p><em>Don’t hurt yourself</em>, Bonnibel thought as she stood up. “I’ve got it,” She called to her uncle.</p><p>Bonnibel made her way downstairs through the sea of boxes and saw two shadows in the glass panes of the door. She crept carefully towards it, examining the shadows. One appeared to be stocky, almost built like a wrestler. The other was slightly taller and much skinnier. Cautiously she opened the door and found two teenage boys holding delivery bags with <em> The Tree Trunk </em> printed across them, the wrestler was about her age and the other a year or two younger. They both had bright blonde hair, although the older one’s was cropped short while the younger’s was long and shaggy. They were obviously brothers. The younger one’s face was flushed deep red. She figured he must be sick.</p><p>The larger one grinned. “Hey, you must be new in town! We’ve delivered just about everywhere, and we <em> definitely </em>know everyone our age, right Finn?” He said, elbowing the kid next to him.</p><p>“R-right!” he stuttered. The pair looked expectantly at her then.</p><p>“Yes…” She said hesitantly. “I just moved in this afternoon, I’ll be starting at the highschool next Monday.”</p><p>The boys positively beamed. </p><p>“Well, allow us to be your first two friends!” the larger one said, holding out his hand. “I’m Jake Mertens, and this is my younger brother Finn. I’m a Junior, he’s a Freshman.”</p><p>“Bonnibel Butler, also a Junior.” She said, cautiously shaking his hand.</p><p>“Fantastic! Already making friends, Bonnibel?” her uncle said, suddenly appearing at her shoulder. Bonnibel half nods then retreats back into her house as he pays for the meal. As she sits down on the couch, she hears the trio chatting. <em> Dammit, there goes my plan</em>, Bonnibel mentally shamed herself, as she hears the door shut softly.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! This is my first fanfic, and I'm hoping to make it a long one so any and all feed back is welcome! I will try to update as often as I can but Life happens sometimes so if I don't update for a while I'm sorry ^^;</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tapping of the rain on her window kept Bonnibel company as she organized the last of her possessions. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. She had pushed her bed and nightstand against the far wall by the window. On the opposite wall, she had set up her desk. Sitting on top was her laptop and school supplies, neatly organized and ready for school tomorrow. Above her desk was a goofy periodic table her uncle had given her when she moved in with him. It was ridiculous but she knew it made him happy to see it up. Her dresser was shoved into a gap in her closet, just barely fitting inside.</p><p>Her room was sparse, but she liked it that way. She had never been one to keep knick-knacks. She gave one last look around the room, then gathered the empty boxes and took them down to their overflowing recycling bin. </p><p>After successfully completing her task, she hopped up on the kitchen counter, surveying their new home. <em> Well, it isn’t home, but it’ll do. </em>Bonnibel thought to herself. The lower level of the house was open, only the counter and different flooring separated the living room from the kitchen. The house was neat and orderly, but much more thoroughly decorated than her room. Pepper was a man of odd taste, with many odd knick-knacks that would seem out of place to those that only knew his outward persona. Bonnibel’s personal favorite was the replica of a skull that currently held its position as center piece of the dining table, though she had a sneaking suspicion the nearby piece of amethyst would soon take its place. Bonnibel was just glad he relegated most of his oddities to the disaster-zone he called a bedroom.</p><p>Then the aforementioned man appeared from the staircase. One would think he had just emerged from a steamy make-out session or a particularly windy afternoon, as disheveled as he was. However, he had just finished unpacking his numerous things, if the enormous pile of boxes was any indicator. After properly disposing of the boxes, he straightened himself and turned to his niece.</p><p>“Everything unpacked?” he asked Bonnibel.</p><p>She nodded, hopping off the counter.</p><p>“Then I suppose it’s time we bite the bullet,” he said as Bonnibel groaned. “Time to go to the supermarket.”</p><hr/><p> </p><p>The dreaded drive to the local supermarket was dreary in the pouring rain. Everyone seemed to have taken refuge indoors unless absolutely necessary. </p><p>Bonnibel stared out the window of the car, watching the town of Butterscotch Lake pass by. Her new home was in the suburbs around the outskirts of town, so this was her first good look at it. She was… less than impressed, but she was much more used to big city living, so she can’t really fault the town for being small. Nevertheless, the town was still grey and dull, and she <em> will </em> fault it for that.</p><p>The low rumble of the engine stuttered to a halt as her uncle pulled into a parking space in front of the supermarket. As Bonnibel stepped out of the car, she heard a burst of laughter a couple of cars away and spotted Finn and Jake in a large group of teenagers their age. Determined to remain unnoticed, she pulled up the hood on her bright pink jacket. </p><p>Throughout the past four days of moving in, they’ve ordered from <em> The Tree Trunk </em> several times, it was quite good after all, and each time Bonnibel hid in the kitchen until the boys had left. <em> Did she feel bad about it? No. Well, maybe a little. But it was for her own good </em> , she reminded herself. <em> No sense in getting attached… </em></p><p>Shaking herself from her thoughts, she stuck close to her uncle, using his height to shield her from the enthusiastic boys. This very flawed plan seemed to work, as they entered the store unnoticed.</p><p>The rest of the shopping trip was uneventful as they perused the store, planning meals for the next week. Bonnibel’s cover was almost blown when she spotted them going by the produce section, but she deftly ducked behind a lettuce stand until they had passed. Pepper seemed amused by her determined avoidance, but he always looked somewhat amused, so maybe she was just imagining it.</p><p>Once safely back in the confines of Pepper’s car, Bonnibel felt herself relax. </p><p>“Mind if I take the scenic route?” Her uncle said sliding into the front seat after securing the groceries. “I’ve been wanting to get a look at the town.</p><p>Bonnibel hummed her consent, but felt that tension (no, it was not fear, thank you very much<em> ) </em> of being seen bubble back up. <em> You’re being ridiculous </em> she thought to herself <em> you’re in a car, going 30 miles an hour, no one will see you </em>. She relaxed a little then, and let herself take in the rest of the town.</p><p>The rest of the town was just as dull as the other part of it, maintaining it’s expressive greys, greys, and more greys. She thought she saw a hint of black, but it could have just been a dark grey. The greys soon began to blend together. The gentle tap of the rain sending a wave of calm.</p><p><em> Thunk </em> . The car shuttered to a halt and Bonnibel sat bolt upright, jolting her out of her haze (no, she had not been asleep! She swears! <em> ). </em> She peered around trying to get her bearings. She saw her uncle standing in front of the car watching her expectantly. He nodded up at the large building behind him, her eyes following his gesture, landing on a large sign in front of the building reading <em> Barnabas Gambull Library. </em> </p><p>“What are we doing here?” Bonnibel said, stumbling out of the car.</p><p>Pepper laughed. “I just asked you if you wanted to get your library card set up.”</p><p>Bonnibel felt a tinge of pink light her cheeks. “Oh, I… must not have heard you.”</p><p>Pepper shook his head in amusement, and led the way inside the looming building. The library itself seemed to be relatively old, perhaps built in a classical or victorian style? But Bonnibel couldn’t claim to be an architecture expert, so she had no idea.</p><p>The inside of the old building was somehow giant, but welcoming.<em> Or you’re just a huge nerd, Bonnibel. </em> As Pepper set up their library cards with a turtle-like woman at the front desk, Bonnibel roamed the library, getting a sense of the layout. She supposed she would spend the most time in the science section, but she had yet to find it on the first floor. Venturing to the second floor, she began perusing the aisles. The library had an appreciable number of books, she would surely have plenty to interest her here. <em> Maybe this place won’t be too terrible… </em></p><p><em> CLANG </em>. Bonnibel swung her hands out in an effort to stop whatever she had just bumped into. In a moment of surprising dexterity, she caught the cart before it toppled over, allowing the accompanying library worker to straighten it out.</p><p>“So sorry about that, I should have been paying attention I’m really s-” Bonnibel began, her face flushing a bright bubblegum pink.</p><p>“Oh no worries dude you’re totally fine.” the worker cut her off. She was a teenager about Bonnibel’s age with chestnut skin and beautiful curly black hair. She had an impish look to her, with a crooked smile that screamed ‘I could steal your lunch money, and you would thank me,’ but her laid back attitude offset her appearance. “Hey… are you new in town? I haven’t seen you around before.”</p><p><em> How small is this town! </em>“Yeah...I just moved here last Wednesday.” Bonnibel replied. “I’ll be starting at the high school tomorrow.”</p><p>“I’m Keila,” she said, holding out a hand. “A junior, and you?”</p><p>“Bonnibel Butler, also a junior,” she said reluctantly, shaking the taller girl’s hand.</p><p>“Nice!” Keila grinned. “Here, I’ll give you my number so I can give you a tour of campus-”</p><p>“Bonnibel! Time to go!” Pepper stage whispered from down the aisle, cutting off Keila.</p><p>Bonnibel gave an apologetic smile and quickly hurried off back to the safety of her uncle’s car.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bonnibel looked in the floor length mirror in the bathroom one last time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is ridiculous. Who am I trying to impress? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bonnibel scolded herself. She had been up for hours getting ready. She hoped that taking extra time to prepare her things would make the bubble of anxiety sitting in her stomach disappear, but alas, no matter how many times she checked her bag (26, if you wanted to be exact) and perfected her outfit, it wouldn’t go away. Bonnibel sighed, and let herself lean forward against the mirror. She stared into her own eyes, feeling the world fade into the background as her thoughts whirled in her head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s no reason to be this dressed up. You don’t want friends anyway. You just want to push everyone away. No one’s ever wanted you around. Why even try when you’ll always just be left behind. Just focus on school. It’s the only thing you’re good at anyway.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bonnibel! You’ll be late for school if you don’t leave now!” Pepper called from downstairs, snapping Bonnibel out of her thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel shook herself and left the bathroom, quickly grabbing her backpack from it's perch on her desk as she made her way downstairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper was standing by the door, twirling his keys as he waited for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry Pep," she said. "I just… lost track of time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper smiled, opening the door. “It’s alright to be nervous dear, it’s not every day that you start at a new school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel rolled her eyes as she followed him out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A little cliche, Pep.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel peered at the map of the school, trying to decipher the tiny print. She looked up, searching for a landmark in the mass of students that would help her get her bearings. Besides some banners and the main office itself, the hall is barren. She squints down at the map again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe 103 is this way…. Or is that an 8?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“HEY BONNIBEL!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flipped around, and was almost knocked over by an overly energetic Finn and Jake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need help finding your class?” Jake said, resting an arm on her shoulder, studying her schedule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No it’s alright I can find it on my o-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“103? Right this way!” Finn interrupted, linking one arm with hers, leading her to her first class.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really it’s fine I don’t need help,” Bonnibel said, trying to pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re sure,” Finn said, letting go of her as she pulled, sending her flying backwards into the people walking behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel felt like the world had flipped upside down. Her things scattered around the floor. Finn flushed bright red and started to apologize, until he saw who he had sent her into. The brother’s faces went stark white. Bonnibel felt her face burn as she looked up at who she had knocked down. She was sitting in the lap of a girl about her age with long, midnight black hair. If Bonnibel had to choose a word to describe the girl, it would be sharp. Her jaw could cut diamonds, her teeth were sharp enough to be unusual, but not unpleasant, and eyes were a piercing, bright green. She looked startled and confused, as if she had just been awoken from a nap. However, the expression on her face soon switched to anger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finn quickly pulled Bonnibel off of the girl, apologizing to her profusely as Jake collected Bonnibel’s things. They did so at such a blinding speed that Bonnibel didn’t realize Finn was carrying her until they had rounded a corner and he had already put her down. The pair was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. They looked like they’d just had an encounter with a ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What just happened?” Bonnibel said, breaking the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marceline Abadeer,” Jake said in between breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waited for clarification, but the boys stayed silent. “And who is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s a troublemaker, always in fights and stuff like that,” Finn leaned forward to whisper. “I heard she broke her arm last spring after getting in a bar fight with some bikers.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> heard,” Jake added. “That she broke it trying to mug a martial artist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, she broke it jumping out of a window of a guy she slept with,” a nasally, valley-girl voice said from behind them. “But that’s old news. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> more interested in our </span>
  <em>
    <span>new student</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The owner of the voice was a rather short girl, with bright blond wavy hair. Bonnibel figured her bright purple clothes were probably designer. She was a bigger girl, but her curves hit in all the right spots to make most girls jealous. The girl looked Bonnibel up and down as if analyzing her, searching for weakness. Or secrets. It was violating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl held out her hand. “Lucy S. Prince, and you must be Bonnibel Butler.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel shook her hand. “How did you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finn has told us </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> about you,” she said with a wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The 5 minute bell spared Bonnibel from replying. Jake quickly directed her to her class, which happened to be right down the hall, before hurrying off to his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>101...102….ah, here it is, 103. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bonnibel stepped into the class. The teacher was shuffling papers, and looked up when she entered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teacher stood and held out a hand to Bonnibel.</span>
  <span>“I’m Ms. Campbell, you’re Bonnibel, correct?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel nodded</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great! You’re in luck, there’s one seat left. Next to Lady.” Ms. Cambell pointed to a tall, beautiful Korean girl with a rainbow streak in her hair looking over something in her notebook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel quietly slid into the open seat. The girl next to her glanced up for a minute, giving a small wave and a smile before returning to whatever she was working on. Now Bonnibel was closer, she noticed that this girl seemed to have more than just a rainbow streak. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This girl </span>
  </em>
  <span>really</span>
  <em>
    <span> likes rainbows, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bonnibel thought. Her backpack underneath her desk and her pencil case were rainbow. Her binder, notebooks, and planner were purposely picked out and placed to be a rainbow set. Even her phone had little rainbow stickers on the case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady finished what she was writing, and turned to Bonnibel, but before she could say anything, the bell rang, signalling the start of class.</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bell for the end of class rang, and Bonnibel quickly collected her things. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If i hurry I should have time to find my next class. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She thought to herself, but her plan was abruptly cut short by Lady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady smiled. “Hey, you’re Bonnibel, right? What class do you have next? By the way, I’m Lady.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel pulled out her schedule. “U.S. History in room 208. I’m sure I can find it by myself though-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect! We can walk together.” Lady interrupted. “Unless you’d rather go by yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Say no say no say no- </span>
  </em>
  <span>“uhm, sure. I don’t mind.” Bonnibel said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn it!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady led Bonnibel up to the second floor where their class was held. Bonnibel was never one for small talk, nor personal questions, but somehow Lady knew just the right questions and responses to not make it awkward. If Bonnibel were to call anyone she had met that day a friend, it would be her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit over here next to me, Lincoln doesn’t care where we sit.” Lady said</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel sat down next to her and started to pull out her things when Jake swooped into the seat on the other side of Lady. He placed a light kiss on her cheek as he sat down. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, so she’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>not </span>
  <em>
    <span>gay?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Bonnibel, your first class go alright?” Jake said when he finally noticed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel shrugged. “It was easy enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucky!” Lady sighed, resting her head in her hand. “I wish I was as good at Math as you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not that good.” She said. “It’s pretty simple once you have the basics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I beg to differ, Wizz Kid.” Lady teased. “You were the only one able to answer her questions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was the only one </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to answer questions.” Bonnibel corrected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“POP QUIZ!” Mr. Lincoln said, bursting into the room and ceasing all conversations.</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel stretched her hand. The work in Lincoln’s U.S History class was rigorous and left her with quite the hand cramp. It didn’t bother her much though, she was used to writing for long periods of time. She sat back for a moment and looked at the clock above the door. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only a few minutes left. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She surveyed the classroom. Jake had fallen asleep halfway through the lesson. He would have fallen asleep sooner had Lady not tried (and failed) to keep him awake. The rest of the class was in varying states of wakefulness. In the back corner of the class, Bonnibel recognized the girl from the library. She was slumped over the desk, her open history book serving as a pillow.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>You would think someone who worked for a library would be more interested in class. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The bell signifying the end of class stirred Bonnibel from her thoughts. Checking her schedule, she found that lunch was next. She quickly tried to pack her things before she could be roped into more socializing, but Lady and Jake were quick to follow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pair showed Bonnibel to a picnic table outside where Finn, Lucy, and someone about Finn’s age with teal hair were sitting. The end of summer sun made the afternoon hot, but the shade of a nearby tree over the picnic table made it quite a nice spot for lunch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hey Bonnibel, enjoying your classes?” Finn said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re alright I suppose,” she said, sitting down next to Lady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teal-haired kid reached across the table. “I’m Bea! You’re Bonnibel, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel shook Bea’s hand, but before she could reply, Lucy jumped in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So where you from, Butler? It’s not every day that someone moves to a tiny town like this, much less in the third week of Junior year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm, the capitol. My uncle grew up here…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave any boys behind?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel almost laughed. “No, definitely not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucy seemed puzzled, and Jake took the opportunity to start a debate with Finn and Bea about superheroes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of lunch was uneventful, with little conversation aimed at her. Bonnibel spent much of the time planning the rest of her week, much of which would be dedicated to a new experiment she wanted to try when she got home. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I should have some more Sodium Carbonate left at home. If not it should get here tomorrow…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bonnibel, you still with us?” Lady said, waving a hand in front of Bonnibel's planner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jumped and looked up. Everyone was leaving the table. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Bell must have rung.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” Bonnibel quickly put away her things and followed Lady back into the building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you working on that’s got you so focused?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her cheeks went slightly pink. “Oh, it’s nothing, just a little experiment I’ve been planning…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if experiments are something you’re after, here’s your chemistry class,”  Lady giggled, gesturing to Bonnibel's next class and continuing on to her own. “Have fun!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel shook herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Look at you, getting all flustered.  Get a hold of yourself.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She walked up to the teachers desk. The teacher was an older graying man with round glasses grading papers. The nameplate on his desk identified him as ‘Mr. “Best Sciencer Ever” Petrikov.'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced up “Well hello! I take it you’re Ms. Butler?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel nodded</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent! I’m Mr. Petrikov. Welcome to class. Now, where to seat you…” Mr. Petrikov shuffled through the mess of papers on his desk, studying them all for a moment until he found the one he was looking for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” he mumbled to himself before turning his attention back to Bonnibel. “This class is quite full, so we only have one empty seat. I’m sure you’ll get along with her fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pointed to the back of the class. “Right there next to Marceline, the one with her headphones in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel’s heart leapt into her throat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s fine. I’m sure they were exaggerating. It’s just chemistry class. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She shook herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What does it matter, you don’t need to be her best friend. It’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>just </span>
  <em>
    <span>chemistry class. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She thanked Mr. Petrikov and made her way to the back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marceline looked up at her arrival and popped an earbud out. “What do you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice was husky and sent shivers down Bonnibel’s spine. “I just transferred into this class. Looks like I’m your new lab partner.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel felt her cheeks warm and looked awkwardly around the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, whatever, Pinky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel felt her blood boil as Marceline turned her attention back to her music. The bell forced her to bite back her retort, but she shot a scathing look at the indifferent Marceline. Bonnibel took a deep breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’ll be fine. Just because you’re wearing a lot of pink doesn’t mean it’s something to be ashamed of. Ignore her. It’s your favorite subject and she will </span>
  </em>
  <span>not</span>
  <em>
    <span> ruin it for you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bonnibel took out her notebooks and arranged them on the shared tabletop while Mr. Petrikov prepared for today’s lesson. He shuffled his stack of papers and began writing on the chalkboard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marceline, take out your headphones please,” he said without looking back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She muttered a complaint, but complied, shoving her earbuds into her pocket and crossing her arms. After a few moments, Marceline reached into her backpack and pulled out a thin notebook. She frowned and dove back into her backpack. Unable to find what she was looking for, she turned to Bonnibel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Pinky, can I borrow a pencil?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My </span>
  <em>
    <span>name</span>
  </em>
  <span> is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bonnibel</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and shouldn’t you be more prepared?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marceline shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel sighed and pulled out an extra pencil. “Just make sure you return it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure thing, Pinky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me Pinky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Bubblegum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel groaned. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This was gonna be a long year.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Petrikov faced the class and passed some worksheets out to the front rows to pass back. “Alright everyone, today we’re going to cover some concepts, then next class we’re going to do a lab over it. And before you ask, no, you can not pick your partners. You will be working with your table-mate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bonnibel looked over at Marceline, who was folding her worksheet into a crane. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is gonna be a </span>
  </em>
  <span>really</span>
  <em>
    <span> long year.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys, thanks for reading! sorry this chapter took so long to come out, I meant to have it out much sooner but life got in the way ^_^;<br/>Btw, the school schedule is passed on my high school's block schedule, so they will have 4 classes, each an hour and a half everyday with a lunch in the middle, alternating which classes they have every day.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eighth period study hall on a particularly boring Tuesday was not how Marceline Abadeer wanted to spend her afternoon, but she had promised Simon to attend at least her first week of classes, (it still counts as a promise if she gets 20 bucks out of it, right?)  and she wasn’t going to let him down. However, it seemed that particularly boring, poorly air conditioned study hall was determined to break Marceline. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I bet if I asked to use the bathroom she wouldn’t even notice I left. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Marceline thought as she stared at the ceiling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t even think about it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She scolded herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Simon would be disappointed in you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marceline sighed and sat up, scanning the classroom for some sort of entertainment from her peers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the corner, a group of freshmen were playing a completely silent game of Uno. The nerdiest looking one of the bunch slammed down a card and the blond boy next to them dramatically fell out of his seat to the floor, earning a stern look from the teacher. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marceline rolled her eyes and smirked, moving her gaze to the other side of the room, where a senior football player in a letterman jacket (Richard? Ricardo? Something like that. She never really cared about guys like him.) was trying to steal something from his sleeping friend’s desk. Marceline may not have known his name, but she knew his slicked-back hair was as slimy as his personality, but alas, she would not be the white knight for his poor ‘friend’ today (he stole her scented markers in fourth grade. That’s unforgivable, Todd.) and looked elsewhere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, on days like today where the world conspires to be boring, there’s not much anyone is doing, and the crushing silence made Marceline’s eye’s feel heavier than lead, almost pulling her down to the sweet-sweet, boredom-relieving depths of sleep. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Almost.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Whatever dream she would have had was ruined by the even sweeter sound of the bell, releasing her from her latest day in hell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marceline swung her bag over her shoulder and half sprinted out of the room. She weaved through the hallway, dodging couples making out and the groups of friends who take up the </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire fucking hallway</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The doors to the student parking lot in sight, she picked up the pace, feeling her heart lift, nearly floating away with how light it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Marceline!” to add to the delight of the end of the school day, her best friend since 5th grade was waiting by her car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then the wind was knocked out of her like she was tackled by one of the school’s linebackers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keila pushed forward a companion who seemed to be hiding in the shadows. A certain companion that had a noticeable love for pink, perfectionism, preppiness, and probably other words that start with ‘P’. A certain someone who had to ruin her chemistry class by being her partner. A certain classmate named Bonnibel Butler, who had only been at the school for two days but seemed to be set on bugging Marceline as much as she could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is Bonnibel! I met her at the library the other day, and it looks like we have eighth period English together,” Keila beamed. “I thought we could show her around town, tell her about all the best spots.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marceline scowled at the two girls. Bonnibel looked like she was sucking on a rotten lemon. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This was probably Keila’s idea. She looks about as pleased to see me as… I don’t know some stupid snobby thing that doesn’t like totally rad things.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marceline pushed past them and opened her car door, sliding inside. “Not today, Keila. I’ll text you later,” she scowled at Bonnibel one last time and slammed the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She started the ignition and took off, not looking back at her friend. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry K, not dealing with Princess Prim and Proper tonight.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>SLAM. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Marceline leaned back against the door to her house. No one else was home yet. Hell, she wouldn’t be either if it weren’t for that perfect, petite, pompous, princess-in-pink. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Whatever, it doesn’t matter.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Marceline took a deep breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to go upstairs. I’m going to play my bass. And I will not think of that pretentious, pure-. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Marceline took another, angrier, deep breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why do I even care? She’s just like everyone else. I don’t need to waste energy on a poseur.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With another calm breath, Marceline went up the stairs to her room. She stopped for a second at her door to straighten the Grateful Dead poster she had pinned to the outside. Satisfied with its slightly off-center, slanted position (it annoyed her to no end, but it annoyed her dad more. So yes, it's definitely worth it.), she entered her room, slamming the door behind her. Her room was like a cross between a bear’s cave and a thirty-year-old rockstar wannabe that still lives in their parents’ basement. Posters of various bands hung artfully lopsided around the room, except on the wall to her right, where she hung her collection of vinyls. To her left, her queen sized broken futon was propped up in its couch position, held up only by some boxes of old stuff she couldn’t bear to part with (shut up. She is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> a hoarder.), and covered in clothes (they were probably clean, right?) and old junk food wrappers.. Against the wall opposite Marceline, her desk sat underneath the window. It was covered in papers, most of which were scrapped song ideas or bass covers of whatever song she felt like playing that day. Buried amongst the papers, her clunky old laptop that was still running windows seven sat, its power button light blinking at her. Above her desk, the curtains were drawn tight, leaving only the slightest hint of light to poke through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marceline preferred the dark. She liked it, loved it, even. In another life, she probably would have been a vampire. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Heck, I would be the vampire QUEEN.</span>
  </em>
  <span> However, she was not a rad vampire queen, she was a slightly-less-rad junior in highschool. And this slightly-less-rad highschool junior has some sick bass lines to shred. Marceline carefully walked through the path she had left herself totally on purpose and she was definitely not just jumping to the spots on the floor that happened to not be covered in trash or clothes, and snatched up her bass that was leaning on the wall next to her desk. She stumbled back, and collapsed on her futon. After taking a few moments to adjust and shove everything off of her bed, she began plucking at her bass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first, it was just random notes, but eventually she found herself gently plucking a familiar tune. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What is this. I know it from somewhere. Ugh, this is going to drive me nuts if I don’t figure it out. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Marceline pulled her phone out of her back pocket, and started scrolling through her extensive music library. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fifteen Minutes? …No, that’s not it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I Kissed a Girl? Yeah, no, why do I even still have this?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>New Perspective? No… but I’ll come back to that later.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Piano Man? Nope, no, definitely not.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Still Into You? Nope- wait a minute. That one!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marceline clicked on the next track, and the soulful shanty of Mitski’s Strawberry Blond filled the room. Marceline closed her eyes, taking in the song. She found herself mumbling along to it. The song is infectious, really. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>not</span>
  <em>
    <span> sing it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She opened her eyes and watched the progress bar as the song came to a close. As the bridge of the song played, she found her mind wandering back to school. One of her classmates at school. A certain classmate that happened to have long, wavy, beautiful hair that one could call a shade of  strawberry blonde. A certain classmate that was perfect and p- </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck. I can’t think of anything else. She’s just… UGH.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marceline haphazardly tossed her bass to the other end of the futon and screamed into the nearest pillow. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t care about some stupid new girl. Everyone else can fawn over her and gossip, but I’m. not. doing. that. I’ll mind my own business, and she’ll mind hers, and then we’ll part ways as unwilling lab partners at the end of the semester.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys, its been awhile but I'm glad you're here! I got hit with a wave of Sapphic energy this week thanks to my anniversary today, so I was able to get this out to you guys. I hope you enjoyed, I'll try to get the next chapter out soon.</p>
<p>Happy Halloween!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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